Monsieur, I am a woman who demands
much from those who serve her. I am capricious; my moods vary; I am
unfamiliar with sentiment; I hate oftener than I love. Listen. There is
a canker in my heart, made there by vanity. When it heals--well--mayhap
you will find the woman you desire. Mind you, I make no promises.
Follow me, if you will, but have patience; love me if you must, but in
silence;" and with a gesture which was not without a certain fondness,
she laid her hand upon his head.

CHAPTER XXIX. INTO STILL WATERS AND SILENCE

Into the princess's own chamber they carried Maurice, and laid him on
the white bed. Thus would she have it. No young man had ever before
entered that sacred chapel of her maiden dreams. Beside the bed was
a small prie-dieu; and she knelt upon the cushion and rested her brow
against the crucifix. The archbishop covered his eyes, and the state
physician bent his head. Chastity and innocence at the feet of God; yet,
not even these can hold back the fleeting breath of life. She asked God
to forgive her the bitterness in her heart; she prayed for strength
to repel the weakness in her limbs. Presently she rose, an angelic
sweetness on her face. She looked down at Maurice; there was no sign of
life, save in the fitful drawing in of the nether lip. She dampened a
cloth and wiped the sweat of agony from the marble brow.

"O, if only he might live!" she cried. "And he will not?"

"No, your Highness," said the physician. "He has perhaps an hour.
Extraordinary vitality alone is the cause of his living so long. He has
lost nearly all the blood in his body. It was a frightful wound. He is
dying, but he may return to consciousness before the end."

The archbishop, with somber eyes, contemplated the pale, handsome face,
which lay motionless against the pillow. His thoughts flew back to his
own youth, to the long years which had filled the gap between. Friends
had come and gone, loved ones vanished; and still he stood, like an oak
in the heart of a devastated forest, alone. Why had he been spared,
and to what end? Ah, how old he was, how very old! To live beyond the
allotted time, was not that a punishment for some transgression? His
eyes shone through a mist of tears.

The princess, too, contemplated the face of the dying man. How many
times had that face accompanied her in her dreams! How familiar she was
with every line of it, the lips, that turned inward when they smiled;
the certain lock of hai